


Wait

by lactoria



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Intoxication, M/M, Troll Romance, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lactoria/pseuds/lactoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He said he’d be right back.  He woke up.  He’ll sleep again soon, and I’ll be here when he arrives just as we’d departed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait

_Tell me that someday you’ll be returning_  
 _And maybe_  
 _Maybe I’ll believe_  
 _It’s just enough to see a shooting star_  
 _To know you’re never really far_  
 _It’s just enough to see a shooting star_  
 _To know you’re never really gone_

He waits, standing in the same spot where he was left, afraid to move in fear of not being there for lheir reunion.

He waits because he’s hopeful, he waits because he has nothing better to do.

When you’re dead, time becomes an elusive concept; Kankri can no longer tell time.

So he watches the stars.  They’ve been dead far longer than him, their glow nothing more than an echo of their existence.

But like Kankri, they have burnt out long, long ago.

Still, he watches their twinkling memory as time carries on unfazed by those it effects.

Occasionally, he receives visits from his concerned friends.  They chasten his foolishness.

_He said he’d be right back._

_He woke up.  He’ll sleep again soon, and I’ll be here when he arrives just as we’d departed._

Kankri knows better than to believe in solidity between the living and the dead; those ties are thread-thin, and even the slightest disturbance could separate them eternally.

Nevertheless, he holds out hope for Karkat’s speedy return.

It’s not like he’s wasting any valuable time lingering.

But eventually, his anticipation dwindles, the flower of passion wilts, and Kankri’s spirits slump.

Karkat is not coming back.  Kankri himself would wither before his dancestor returned.

It’s with a heavy heart that Kankri abandons his post, dragging his feet as if himself were dead weight.  He hauled himself, downtrodden, back to his hive without looking back once.  He felt defeated, ashamed to be going home empty-handed.

Had he just thrown one final look over his shoulder, he would see Karkat’s manifesting form frantically waving after him.

Karkat yelled at his retreating back, but Kankri was just out of earshot.

Karkat mistook it as dismissal.  Was Kankri ignoring him?

Pumper thundering in his chest, Karkat wavered, debating on if he should chase his dancestor down.

In the end, fear won out, gluing him to spot Kankri had been occupying just minutes before.

-

Time stretched between them alongside the building tension.  The longer they were apart, the darker Kankri’s thoughts became.  He doubted himself and his use to his dancestor.  He doubted Karkat’s attraction to him and the strength of what he assumed to be a significant bond.

Karkat knew he should approach Kankri, should tackle this awkwardness head-on, yet he knew in his fragile state he couldn’t stand another rejection.

He had so few people to turn to these days that he might snap if Kankri turns him away.

So he keeps low, keeps to himself, holed up in his memory hive until a hard rapping at the door frazzles his nerves all over again.

He’s simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see Dave on his hivestep.

"Yo, man, since you’ve been hiding out in your crab shack, Porrim sent me to tell you about the party she’s throwing.  It’s bomb diggety, Karkles; everyone’s there."

"When?"

"Right now."

A party—just what he needed: a bunch of drunken trolls clambering all over each other, fighting or fucking or both.

Still, it’d be obvious if he didn’t show and he’d probably catch hell for it.

So he cleans up and joins the jamboree.  The presence of soporifics is a welcome one; Karkat knows that he won’t be able to handle the social pressure without a drink or three.

He downs three shots before Porrim even greets him.

"Already, Vantas?  Is this some sad attempt to drown your misery?  If so, you should join your dancestor over there."  She jerks a thumb toward a remote corner one Kankri Vantas is inhabiting.  He’s rolling in laughter and falling into a long-suffering Aranea’s arms.

So he’s coping just as well as his kin.  Figures it runs in the *family*.

Powered (numbered) by the soporific effect, Karkat shuffles over to relieve Aranea of her duties.

She mouths a subtle  _thank you_  before literally transferring the careening bundle into Karkat’s arms.

"Hey, idiot."

"You are the idddgit,"  Kankri slurs through a dopey smile, his weight leaning heavily into Karkat.

"Your opinion doesn’t really count, drunkard."

"Neither does yours."  In a startling moment of clarity, Kankri perks up, leans in and sniffs Karkat’s breath.

"You’re intoxicated."

"Not quite, but I’m on my way."

The tension is unbearably thick, the chemistry between them electrically charged.  Having Kankri in his arms again is so gutwrenching.  Should he embrace him?  Should he put distance between them?

"Kankri…"  He hesitates, his tongue twisting from the anxiety of broaching the subject they were both agonizing over.

Kankri interjected.

"Why did you take so long?"

"What??  I was only gone for a night!"

"Th—that’s all?"

Kankri manages to sit up amid his stupor, bleary eyed and slack jawed; he looks nothing like himself, but Karkat would take him any way he could have him.

He looks miserable, and all because of him.

Karkat’s brow furrows perplexedly.

"That’s all!  You—you always waited, and when I—when I came back you were leaving and I called out to you—"

"I didn’t hear you…"  Kankri wishes he were sober; now that Karkat’s here, he missed him so much but words are failing him.

The younger troll’s face lights up, and before Kankri can gather his wits he’s whisked into a smothering hug.

"I missed you, you fucking moron.  I missed you so much."

Something clicks in Kankri, some kind of clarity piercing the fog of inebriation, or perhaps it’s the inebriation itself that motivates Kankri to wrap his arms protectively around his dancestor and mash their lips together.

He kisses Karkat firmly, a deep-seated desire born of all the waiting unleashing itself upon the shorter troll.  He’s been without his dancestor for too long, far too long.  Hungrily, he dominates Karkat’s mouth, letting up only when the need to replenish air becomes crucial.

Karkat’s chest heaves as he labors for breath, and still Kankri does not stop.  He pecks him repeatedly, dropping sweet little kisses all over his face.

Karkat takes one look around them to be sure no one is paying witness to their activities before hoisting Kankri up by his loose arms and ushering him off-scene.

They don’t get far—certainly not to either of their hives—before Karkat has the elder troll slammed up against a tree.

"I missed you."  Karkat fingers sift through wavy locks, and Kankri matches him tit for tat, his voice dripping in emotion.

"I missed you more.  Karkat, I was so worried something had happened to you."

"Shoosh, I’m here now."  A belt buckle unclasps, zipper dropped.

"I love you."

Kankri doesn’t regret the confession, especially not after seeing the heat in Karkat’s gaze, the smolder that could ignite even the iciest touch.

He wrenches Kankri’s pants down, rolling them past his thighs.  He grunts in frustration as he hoists his dancestor up, balancing him in the scoop of his pelvis.

"I need you so fucking badly.  Please."

Karkat always asks for consent, even when his bulge is tickling Kankri’s entrance.

Kankri smiles, cups his hands around his pupil’s horns and kisses his full, full lips.

"Yes, Karkat."  The words have barely left his mouth by the time he feels the hot penetration of that thick bulge and the intense pressure of being stretched and filled to the brim.

Gasping, Kankri throws his head back, eyes slitting in pleasure as Karkat buries himself to the hilt.

"Oh my god, has it really been this long?  Fuck, Kankri, you’re so goddamn tight—"  He nips and sucks at his dancestor’s throat as he bounces the seer on him, angling his thrusts upwards to pierce as deeply as possible.

And Kankri feels the very intimate infiltration; it’s almost too much.  Karkat’s bulge wriggles and pulses inside of his nook, the rush of it overwhelming Kankri to tears.  He digs his nails into Karkat’s shoulderblades, trembling as he rides out the hammering thrusts.

"Oh—oh, Karkat, yes yes YES."

The knight answers in feral huffs and puffs, teeth grazing the side of his neck, possessively biting down with each thorough grind of his hips.

Kankri squirms and mewls as he’s pounded, the two Vantases groping each other desperately, as if one of them could disappear any moment.

Karkat’s head rolls back as his climax crashes down upon him, deluges of geneslime dyeing Kankri’s insides.  Kankri squeals, legs shaking, hands clutching, eyes lidding.

"Come for me baby, come for me."  Karkat murmurs huskily into an ear, and it’s all his dancestor needs to surrender.

And oh how sweetly does he surrender, going off like a rocket—his bulge erupting and painting their bellies in profuse fluids.

Still shuddering, both trolls fondle and touch and commit each other to memory, their lips realigning, kissing sloppily, messily, carelessly.

They don’t need art or formality, not when they’re dizzy with soporifics and sentimentalism, drowning in sensation and high off the exaltation of one another.

Karkat kisses his lips over nad over until they’re swollen while Kankri shivers and whimpers.

His dancestor always has the prettiest orgasms: squirmy, toe-curling, bashfully flushed and undeniably wanton.  Every time he comes he is giving himself over and Karkat ravenously devours his submission.

Kankri’s soft body slumps into Karkat who cradles him like precious cargo.

Between shallow breaths, Kankri breaks down and pleads, “I know you’re going to leave; you have to.  But next time you go, even if you think you’ll be right back, say goodbye."

"I won’t do that, Kankri, I—"

Kankri seals their lips in a feverish kiss.

And for once, Karkat falls completely silent to honor his dancestor.  They’re sticky, sweaty, and so utterly sated.

They knew they were racing time and the inevitable would tear them apart, but as long as Karkat could dream, Kankri would be there.

Waiting.


End file.
